Bruise Pristine
by the-only-innocent
Summary: I can't hate him. Because I love him." In the aftermath of James' wedding proposal, Sirius and James are both a little hurt. SiriusJames slash. Oneshot.


DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything Harry Potter. It all belongs to J.K. In case you didn't already know.  
  
I'm back again. 3 stories up now. Yay. begins to dance ...That was random. So, this story is a Sirius/James, bitter twisted sadistic Sirius and hurt lost James. More Sirius stories coming soon. Hopefully. If my schedule permits. Thinking of doing a Marauders era full-length fic...not quite sure at the moment though. I dunno. Tell me what you think. Yes, please please please RR, I would really love feedback. Cheers!!  
  
The means are right for taking,  
  
Fade to grey,  
  
Trying to be ruthless,  
  
In the face of beauty.  
  
In this matrix,  
  
It's plain to see,  
  
It's either you or me.  
  
Bruise,  
  
Pristine,  
  
Serene,  
  
We were born to lose.

Placebo "Bruise Pristine"

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"I'm going to ask Lily to marry me".  
  
Silence. Horrible, merciless silence. And then, somewhere far off, a bird calls, splitting the silence with a mournful cry. Sirius. He is slumped against the wall, cigarette in his hand, hovering in front of his mouth. Eyes closed, he takes a drag. The smoke wafts from his mouth, the same colour as the cloudy sky. I study him apprehensively. His face shows no emotion and I curse him silently. Look at me you fucking idiot, I think, tell me you hate me and bash the shit out of me, just get it over with.  
  
Nothing. The bird flies overhead, black against the stark, pale sky. I follow it, glad for a distraction from Sirius' impending reaction. Still nothing. Eyes still closed, still smoking, dark hair still falling against his face, beauty still intact. And he's still silent. I begin to tap my foot, waiting for him to react. The cigarettes feel heavy and annoying in my pocket. Like having a stone in your shoe.  
  
Oh, fuck it. I reach in and grab one, sticking it in my mouth and fumbling for my light. I promised Lily I'd give up, but what the hell, one more for good luck. She always said Sirius was the source of all my bad habits. Smoking, drinking, crack. She's probably right. I light the fag and inhale deeply. Fuck that's good. I don't think I will give up.  
  
"What, didn't the missus make you give up?"  
  
Sirius. He speaks. Tone thick with sarcasm. Eyes open now, staring out onto the horizon. A spark of the old wit, the old humour. This had to be a good thing. I don't reply, it was more of a statement anyway. Another drag. Yes, this is all Sirius' fault, if he didn't stress me out I wouldn't have needed to smoke. He turns his head and looks at me. The fathomless orbs burn deep into mine. Guilt pangs in my stomach, scratching at the door to my soul. Scream at me Sirius, bash the shit out of me so I can hate you. But he just stands there motionless, cigarette limply hanging from his hand. And I can't hate him. Because I love him.  
  
"She'll be the missus soon". He's speaking directly to me now, eyes fixed on mine, still no expression on his face. The cold air hasn't flushed his cheeks at all, they're pale and lifeless, his hair breaking the starkness as it hangs over his cheek.  
  
"I don't know, she mightn't say yes".  
  
"Bullshit". He is so blunt. His face is contorted now, twisted, as if he's facing an inner demon. "It's just like a fucking fairytale. And she wants to be the princess". His dark eyes are cold and cruel as he still stares at me. Young face lined with bitterness. His voice is cold and hard, like the pavement beneath our feet.  
  
What can I say? I'm sorry it can't be like that, the way you wanted? It because I'm a selfish little fucker and I only care about myself? He would agree.  
  
"I'm sorry". There, I said it. He closes his eyes for a moment, and then he shakes his head.  
  
"No you're not".  
  
"I think I would know if I'm sorry or not". That's the way, make him angry so he hates you and then you can hate him back. Nice work, Potter.  
  
"No you wouldn't. you're saying that to console me because you think I'm hurt".  
  
"Aren't you?"  
  
He looks down, stares at the toes of his shoes. "No".  
  
"So I can marry her then?"  
  
"Is that what you came to see me for, permission?" He looks up in vague disbelief, but there is a hint of mocking in it too.  
  
"No, I came because I wanted you're opinion on the matter."  
  
"Sounded as if it was pretty final to me".  
  
"Shut up and give me your fucking opinion".  
  
"I don't care."  
  
"Yes you fucking do".  
  
"I think I would know if I cared or not".  
  
We stare at each other. A lump is rising in my throat and I feel as if I'll start crying. I turn my head away, hoping he won't see the angry tears starting.  
  
"I care", I choke out, barely able to speak.  
  
"About me? How could you care about me? I was always second on your fucking priority list after that bitch. I gave up everything for you, you piece of shit, I loved you."  
  
"You say that in past tense".  
  
He moves closer to me now, pushing me gently against the wall, never taking his eyes of mine. I feel defenceless. He's going to kill me.  
  
"Now I hate you".  
  
Crack. He's swung his fist at my cheek, and as it collides, I feel pain and heat rush to that spot. Exquisite pain. I choke and splutter as I hold the tears in. My eyes sting as if the tears are acid. Perhaps they are.  
  
Crack. God, he hits hard. The same spot, the same strength. I bit my lip as his fist smashes into my cheekbone. Warm richness floods my mouth. Blood.  
  
I am dying.  
  
He stops. He hasn't taken his eyes off mine the entire time. Face expressionless again, he moves my head with his hand, inspecting the violent bruise rising on my cheek. He seems satisfied as he moves my head back to its original place. I feel dizzy, my eyes are having trouble focusing. I feel a trickle of blood slip out onto my lips. He watches and wipes it off with his finger. His touch is cold, merciless.  
  
And then he kisses me.  
  
Sadist. His freezing lips envelope mine as his tongue laps at the wound in my mouth. So bittersweet. My heart aches. The blood is all he wants. He wants to hurt me. He hates me. He breaks the kiss, pulling his teeth along the wound in my mouth, and feeling me shudder as the hot pain swells in my mouth.  
  
He is satisfied. Fathomless, cruel eyes follow my form.  
  
"I love you".  
  
His eyes flicker back up as he stares at me again.  
  
"You love her".  
  
"Not really".  
  
"Yes you do. It's all you ever wanted, the wife, the kids, white picket fence in the suburbs".  
  
"Am I that transparent?"  
  
He shakes his head. "Your future couldn't involve me".  
  
"I love you".  
  
"You can't".  
  
Silence. And then, somewhere far off, a bird calls, splitting the silence with a mournful cry. We stand alone, impending darkness enveloping us.  
  
We were born to lose.  
  
fin 


End file.
